Storm Damage

I drove the bus up the bumpy dirt road. The trees overhung it, giving a slight break to the oppressive rain. Everything, and I mean everything outside seemed damp and dismal, and I actually thought that as far as romantic getaways went, you couldn't have picked much worse, outside of say, Uzbekistan. Especially when I saw the trailer, or rather, what was left of it.

The corrugated steel of the trailer was a sharp contrast to the bark of the tree that neatly bisected it. The steel was buckled, jutting out in places, and totally soaked by the rain that fell on it. From what I could see from the car window, the trailer had been sitting on an embankment slightly higher than its current position, and now lay half on, and half off, the entire structure sitting at an uncomfortable angle.

"Fuck." Helen's voice was soft, as the four of us took in the devastated shelter. There was no sound save the impact of the rain on the top of the bus.

"I guess we could..." I didn't want to make the women walk back to the nearest town. "Give you a lift to a hotel."

"We'll figure it out," Charlotte nodded softly. "It'll be all right, dahlin."

"With WHAT?" Helen looked at Charlotte. "You want to just forget it and go back home? Because I'm not staying outside in the rain with NO FUCKING TENT!"

"It's just bad luck." Charlotte offered.

"Not this many in a row. First the rain, then the assholes, and now our vacation spot has a fucking TREE through it." Helen's voice rose as she spoke, her arm gesturing towards the wreckage.